What the Chain
by Ironi Numair
Summary: The first step to clan leadership was losing his name, it only became harder from there. A somewhat plotless story about Tygra and the other Thundercats' youth on Thundera.
1. Acknowledgement

What the hammer? what the chain?  
In what furnace was thy brain?  
What the anvil? What dread grasp  
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?  
_The Tiger_, by William Blake

* * *

The aging head of the Tygra clan leaned against the doorframe of his son's room. The young tiger did not notice him, engrossed in the newest of the large collection of tomes that had found their way to his room from the library.

Tygra and his wife Edeline had been trying for so long to have children with no luck that he had begun to fear as age crept upon him that he would never have an heir. But fortune smiled upon the Thundercat nobles at last and she became with child. A healthy son.

She bore no more children, but even so, twelve years later, Tygra could not look at his son without a feeling of gratefulness deep in his heart.

"Theron," he spoke softly. The tiger kit turned his head and smiled at the sight of his father. Leaving the book, he stood from the chair at his desk and waited.

"Father?"

"I thought your mother told you to take those back to the library when you were finished." Tygra gestured to the stacks that had begun to accumulate beside Theron's desk.

Theron smiled slightly, head tilted down but never looking away from the imposing form of his father. "Yessir, I meant to, but I had to cross-reference a few things and well…"

Tygra laughed. "Fair enough, but you can't need all of them. Take back the excess and then meet your mother in the den, she wants to make sure you look good for tonight."

There was a slight twitch to the lip that let Tygra know exactly what Theron thought of "looking good." Like most Thunderians, the youth had little need for clothing and while tonight's ceremony was hardly important enough to require all the pomp that tradition demanded, the other Thundercat nobles would be present and Theron would need to dress accordingly. The major ceremony was still years away, when Tygra handed off the title of head of his clan to his son. This ceremony was more personal. Still, he had heard from Jaga that Lord Lion-O was attending, and, honored as he was, it meant his son would have to suffer through a little pomp.

With a sigh Theron knelt and picked up one of the stacks of books. He was already showing signs of the strength he would have, and his intelligence already proven through his schooling. Tests had shown great aptitude for the mental power that was inherent in their clan, a gift from Edeline. It was an awesome power when fully manifested, but Tygra did not envy her as he'd seen the strain it placed on her. She had only used the power once in all the years they'd known each other since they were kittens.

"Don't bother putting them all back, let Snarfus do that. Hurry up, now."

"Yes Father!" Theron hurried by and soon vanished around the corner.

Tygra smiled to himself and walked off in the opposite direction. He still had things to do before tonight.

He entered the main hall of his clan, the large pillars reaching upwards to a golden skylight that lit the large hall in a warm glow. Several of his clansmen were milling about, quite a few of them cousins, and they nodded respectfully as he passed. Near the enormous doors that opened to the outside stood a young female, smaller than her brethren around her and with fewer stripes. She was not of the Tygra clan, but one of the lesser sub-clans prevalent in the city.

"Ho, Bali-O," Tygra greeted as he neared.

Her eyes brightened as she saw him. "Tygra," was all she said. Working with him for so many years, since she was barely more than a child, she had ceased any formalities when not in the presence of other nobles.

He smiled down at her; she barely came up to his chest. Among the Tygra clan, she was often mistaken for an adolescent, but he knew she was fully grown and of good height in her clan. She was the head of her clan, but after the death of her parents, her aunt took temporary charge of her responsibilities and sent her to Tygra to work under him. She gained experience to prepare her for her looming duties, and, as she was not a noble, was a bridge between the Thundercat Tygra and his Thunderian kinsmen. Her adoration for him had only increased during those years.

"Not after tonight," he said as he walked to the doors, Bali-O following behind him.

She had to quicken her steps to catch up to him. "Don't say that. You'll always be Tygra." He arched a thick eyebrow at her. "Well, to me, anyway," she amended.

Of course he would, she was not of the Tygra clan, they were _all_ Tygra to her. Save Theron, whom she had often taken out into the city with her when Tygra and Edeline were too busy, but that would change tonight. Theron was of age.

"I called for a transport to Cats Lair…"

"Cancel it, I'm not too old to walk yet," he smirked. Cats Lair was hardly far away. All the noble clans surrounded it, the Thundercats ready to be called upon if needed.

"Yessir." Bali-O already had the communicator in her hand.

Tygra's mind wandered as he and Bali-O made their short way to the form of the great cat that rose above the city. He and Panthro had some work to do, but that was hardly something bothersome. The two clans had always been close, and he had worked often with Panthro, as his mother had done so before him. His thoughts instead turned to his son.

Tonight was the first step Theron would take towards his future responsibilities as clan leader. It was a small step, with no meaning outside the clan and the small circle of nobles. But the personal meaning was astronomical, especially at that age. Theron was giving up his name.

Outside the family, the clan name was how Thunderians identified each other. He did not even know Bali-O's true name, and he had no right to know. But that was the point, as head of her clan, her name truly was Bali-O, and would remain so until she had an heir.

Tygra had not heard his own name used in so long. When he had inherited the name from his mother, it had bothered him. He felt stripped of his identity as even his siblings called him by the clan name. But that had changed, especially once he wore the mantle of leadership. Tygra became part of him and was tied to his own identity.

Darkness settled over the duo as they stepped into the shadow of Cats Lair, the setting sun highlighting the obsidian panthers' head, honoring the clan who had built it, so long ago. Yes, they had built it, but the Tygra clan had laid the initial designs. He sighed as a sudden weight lay upon him.

He was Tygra, it was more than his name, and tonight it would cease to be so. For all the pride and joy he had for his son, he was sad to give it up.

* * *

"Stop that," Edeline chided her son, stopping his hand from its ascent to the collar of his tunic. She had worked hard to straighten the material and here he was mussing it again. It had already taken quite some time just to put his mane into some semblance of order, and Theron had put a lick in that just as she finished. An itch, he claimed. Edeline couldn't wait till his adult fur came in completely. At this point, their were still a few patches of fluff that stubbornly stuck to his head. On the other hand, that would mean her little kitten was growing up, and would soon be out prowling with other toms his age. She sighed sadly.

"Mother?" Theron questioned, his hand once again on its way upwards, intent on adjusting the blue baldric he wore.

"Oh, Theron," she whispered, kneeling before him. Time was short, the transport would be here any moment. "Theron, Theron…"

She had chosen the name herself, and after tonight she would say it no more. So Edeline said it as much as she could, over and over as they waited. Her hands rested on his face, and he patiently let her. By the time he became Theron again, he would no longer be her son, but the head of the Tygra clan with a child of his own.

The transport arrived, and Theron wiped the tears from his mother's cheeks. She smiled at him and stood, taking his hand before they stepped in.

* * *

"You know, this is supposed to be a happy occasion."

"I am happy, Karan. And proud."

"I'm your brother, don't lie to me. There's more."

"Was Mother happy when I took on the clan name?" Tygra asked his younger brother quietly.

Karan shrugged. "I don't remember, I was just a kitten."

"I really am happy, I'm older now, adjusting will be easier. Theron is…He'll be fine." Tygra did not know why this small ceremony was so stressful on the immediate family. He was probably more worked up than he should be, after all, as Bali-O had pointed out, outside the family, he was still Tygra, and he was still the head of his clan. He would not step down until he was absolutely sure Theron was ready, barring any accidents, he prayed.

But that's why Karan was here. As Tygra's brother, if anything should happen to him, he would have to step up as head of clan until Theron came of age. He alone needed to witness this, his own family back at the Tygra estates.

Karan excused himself as Nox approached and went to converse with the head of the Wily clan. Tygra had known Nox since their own naming day, and so had felt no boundaries were crossed to call his friend by his individual name, now that he had handed the name of Panthro down to his own son some years before.

"Naming day," the old panther began casually, "I remember how I felt."

Tygra nodded in agreement. It was rare when Nox had experience above him, as Tygra was the older of the two. He was sure a small part of the sly panther was enjoying that fact. A movement by Nox caught his eye.

"Greetings, young Panthro," he nodded to the adolescent that stood by his father's side. Panthro was at full height and filling out nicely. Muscles already rippled under his fur, warning that this was not a young Thundercat to be trifled with.

Panthro returned the greeting respectfully but with familiarity. Tygra remembered fondly when Panthro was just a kit, rolling about on the floor of Tygra and Nox's joint lab, playing with whatever tools he could get his hands on. He'd been at the bench working with the two in no time.

Tygra had wanted to speak to Panthro. Take care of my son when I can't, he looks up to you, help him. But a soft hand on his shoulder arrested that thought and he turned to face his wife, their son in tow.

Her eyes were red and he could see faint tear tracks in her pale fur. He arched his brows questioningly but she shook her head; she would be fine.

"I am proud," was all she said, her hand resting on his chest before she leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

Theron made a face and wandered off. There was little to do until Lord Lion-O arrived, so he weaved through the adults towards Bali-O, waiting in the corner. Ignoring his uniform, he jumped into her arms like a young kitten and she laughed.

"You're too big for that now, young Tygra."

He pulled back, discomfort in his eyes. "Not yet," he whispered, "I'm still Theron."

"No, I speak as it should be. I am not Tygra clan."

He understood that, she should have never called him Theron, but her close work with his father would have made it confusing otherwise. Still, another string to his childhood snapped and he suddenly felt dislocated.

He nodded and stepped out of her embrace. He would gain the clan name tonight, and his Thundercat training would begin soon after. His mother and father had already schooled him in the basics, as was proper, but now his skills would be pushed to the limit. Muscle could not grow if not torn. The price and the pleasure of his birthright.

* * *

The Lord of the Thundercats and his wife entered the observatory, ever accompanied by Jaga, where the ceremony was being held to bows and welcomes both. Lion-O was close to his nobles and, despite his lofty title, mingled with them freely. He knew he had their respect and they would follow where he led. He did not need to be here, but he had not missed the acknowledgment of a new Thundercat yet and he did not ever plan to do so.

After the initial greetings, he stepped forward to where Tygra and Edeline stood, congratulating them. He could see anxiousness and pride both in the two tigers, and knew it was what he had to look forward to now. The news was still circling through the city, on every Thunderian's lips. His beloved wife was pregnant and soon he would know the joys of fatherhood. Soon he too would hand down the ruling clan name and take up his old one. But tonight was for the Tygra clan.

"And where is the young Tygra?" Jaga inquired, bringing the conversation back where it belonged.

"I'm here, my lord," Theron said, emerging from the crowd and standing beside his parents.

Lion-O smiled at him kindly. Yes, he could see a fine Thundercat before him, despite the apprehension that practically thrummed within.

It was a simple ceremony, hardly worth the title, but it only rammed home the importance. Tygra had requested that Lion-O perform the ritual, and Edeline would finish it, as was her right.

It was so simple.

Lion-O reached out, gently placing his hand upon Theron's head.

"What is your name, Thundercat?" He asked so softly, but in the oppressive silence of the room as the other nobles stood in wait made it loud as thunder. Lion-O could feel Theron shiver under him, and then still.

"I am Tygra."

And that was it.

The nobles murmured around him, but Tygra paid little attention to them. Above him, his mother turned and took his father's face in her hands. The tears had returned to her eyes, but they were of joy.

"Cleatus…!" she whispered. It was all she could say.

Cleatus choked, it was the first time he had heard his name since he was twelve years old. He felt like crying himself and so embraced her and buried his face in her red and white hair.

Cheers and congratulations erupted around Tygra and he jumped. A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out of the crowd. He looked up to see Panthro smiling down at him.

"Hey, how do you feel?" the panther asked, draping a muscled arm around the younger cat.

Tygra hesitated, thinking up just the right word.

"Weird."

"Don't worry, you get used to it. It's just a name, even if it _is_ the embodiment of your clan."

"You're not helping."

"Welcome to growing up."

Tygra tilted his head a bit, and tried it out.

"I am Tygra. Tygra…"


	2. Out of the Nest

"Be careful with him, Tygra, snarf!"

"I _am_!" Tygra retorted shortly. Did Snarf think that Tygra's goal was to single handedly end the Lion-O line or something? He bounced the kitten on his knee gently, smiling when the little lion cub burbled with joy.

"He's so cute," Cheetara said, leaning over Tygra's shoulder. She had only received her clan name a few months prior, and Tygra briefly wondered what her name had been. That was a line of thinking that had to stop; she was not of his clan and her name was none of his business regardless.

The miniature Lion-O mewed and reached for Tygra's nose, but he turned his head slightly and evaded the paws. He couldn't wait until this little guy was older, when he would be following Tygra around as he had once Panthro. Speaking of…

"Here, let me see him."

Tygra passed Lion-O, laughing as mightily as one his size could, to Panthro's big hands. The Panther's smile nearly split his face.

"Hey there, little guy!" Panthro then proceeded to make a series of bizarre faces which left Lion-O's eyes wide and somewhat horrified. He proceeded to cry. "Whoops, guess not."

Leora laughed and gestured for her son. Panthro gave her an apologetic smile and returned the wailing babe.

"He's just hungry," the Lady of the Thundercats explained, "Snarf, would you please show our guests back to the hall?"

Snarf chirred in worry. "Don't you need help?"

"Not as yet, good Snarf. You're time will come."

"Oh, alright." He cast one last longing look at the cub before he began to lead the young Thundercats out. The three stood and bowed politely to their host.

"Thank you, Lady Lion-O," Tygra said as the three left. They had all seen the newest Lion-O at the great ball celebrating his birth, and what a night that had been! But they hadn't had a chance to hold and see their future lord up close and were grateful when Lord Lion-O had invited them to his quarters to see the babe.

"Can you believe it," Cheetara said over her shoulder as the three hurried after Snarf.

"What?" Panthro asked.

"That that little cub will one day be bossing us around! Our future Lord of the Thundercats is no bigger than a loaf of bread!"

The three laughed and, to Snarf's chagrin, scurried past him to get to the main hall on their own, eventually racing each other. Cheetara beat them easily and they ran into the main hall only to immediately quite as they received sharp glares from several adults.

"Well then," Tygra panted, "I guess it's up to us to raise him right!"

They agreed with a unified "Ho!"

* * *

"No, no, Snarfus, the one on the left!"

The brown and grey Snarf glowered down at the young noble, shifting on the bookshelf to reach a particularly large tome. "It's always the heavy ones with you, shnerf…"

Tygra grinned. "They're the ones with the good info! C'mon Snarfus, I can get it."

"And let you mess up my perfect organization system? Shnerf! No no…"

Lifting an arched brow, Tygra shook his head. Honestly, he had never figured out Snarfus' 'perfect system' and began to doubt he had one. His uncle Karan sure thought so. Still, the old snarf knew the library better than anyone and kept it well ordered. And by old snarf he meant ancient, his grandmother had hired him as a young 'cat, by Thundera. The idea of Snarfus hauling that heavy book down himself was unacceptable to Tygra and he reached up for it. With a surrendering "shnerf" Snarfus shoved it off the shelf. Too late both he and Tygra realized the mistake and Tygra shut his eyes against the inevitable skull crushing.

"Whoa! Steady, Cousin!"

Tygra looked up to see the large book suspended in the claw of his elder cousin, the son of his aunt Sophia.

"Thank you, Tassos," he said, a sheepish smile on his face.

Tassos smirked and turned his false ire on the old snarf. "Snarfus! Are you trying to kill the future head of Tygra clan? How horrible!"

Snarfus glowered and hopped down to the floor. "I would do no such thing, shnerf. An accident, a miscalculation."

"Nope, I smell conspiracy."

Snarfus narrowed his eyes and marched away from the two, tail raised and shnerfing all the way. Leave it to their grandmother to find the one snarf without a sense of humor.

"And you," Tassos said, wagging the tome at Tygra, "if the book's bigger than you head, leave it alone."

"I don't think my head's getting much bigger, Cousin," Tygra sighed in annoyance. He loved his cousin dearly, but he suspected he'd never be more than a kitten in Tassos' eyes.

"Really? With all the things you stuff in there? Impossible!" Tassos surrendered the book, and Tygra tucked it under his arm. "Anyway, I came to tell you that Uncle Cleatus wants to talk to you. But it took me a while to find you, so you'd better hurry."

Tygra's eyes widened and he ran out of the library so fast Tassos could have sworn he left some stripes behind. But not so fast as to be missed by Snarfus.

"And bring that back when you're done this time, shnerf!"

* * *

Cleatus nearly jumped in his chair when his son suddenly appeared in his office, panting and with a heavy book under his arm.

"Well," he coughed guiltily, resting his arms on his desk, "it wasn't _that_ important." Leave it to his nephew…

Tygra caught his breath and stood straight. "You wanted to see me, Father?"

"Yes." Cleatus gestured absently to the book under Tygra's arm, and the young tiger set it in a spare chair. But Cleatus remained silent, watching his son over steepled fingers and Tygra shifted under his gaze.

Tygra was a good son and an intelligent Thundercat. Edeline, who had been guiding his developing mental powers herself, had been happily reporting his skills growing by leaps and bounds, though he did have a tendency to ignore her warnings and try himself on his own now and again. But what else could he expect from a young 'cat? Still, he was hoping his son would heed Edeline's word and not blow his brain out or something.

His son had one notable flaw that was common among the clan. Tygras were known for their solitary tendencies, often preferring to solve problems on their own. Many a Tygra had been lost for this, and so teamwork had been stressed in Thundercat training well over a century now. Oh, Tygra worked well with his fellow young nobles and spent quite a bit of time with them. But therein lay the problem. Too much time.

Segregation was a problem found only among the noble clans since the unification of Thundera. They got along well with each other, indeed, but had begun to realize a gap had formed between them and their Thunderian countrymen. When the current Lord Lion-O had taken the throne, his first act was to remedy this by encouraging the noble clans to reach out to the lesser clans and establish relationships, especially outside of the already formed noble and sub-clan relationship. Noble kittens received their Thundercat training and initial schooling in Cats Lair, but afterwards were sent to the schools shared by all cats in the city to learn alongside their countrymen. The children would repair the bridges their forbearers let fall into decay.

Cleatus realized he had been lax in this directive with Tygra. For reasons he could no longer remember, he had hesitated placing Tygra into school with fellows his age. Maybe he felt the training he was receiving now was enough, or maybe he figured Tygra was smart enough to continue schooling himself now. Or, more likely, he just couldn't let his only son go yet.

Well, enough. He was damning the boy.

Tygra was social enough in his own circles, but displayed a shyness among unknown adults or visiting youths. Aside from his former excursions with Bali-O or travels with Tassos to the frontier, he had hardly been outside the estates or Cats Lair. He was sheltered, and that would leave him susceptible to outside pressures later on. Cleatus could not allow that. But a new school cycle did not begin again until next season.

Yet there was no better time than the present to start shoving the bird out of the nest, was there?

"I need you to go to the west side of the city to the Siberim clan. You will meet with Siberim and he will take you with him to the quarry outside the Blue Forest. Leopara should be there. The quarry is on standby while she confirms possible ruins in the cliffs left by our ancestors."

Tygra looked confused. "Me?"

"Yes. Siberim will get Leopara's results. He would normally bring them to me himself but I think I'll save him a trip and you can bring them instead."

Tygra was still dumbfounded. "Me?"

Cleatus narrowed his eyes. "Yes, you. I thought you liked history?"

"I do but… Why me?"

"Why not? You will soon lead Tygra clan, and those of our sub-clans. Bali-O is gone to lead her clan, you know that. It's time for you to take her place." Cleatus leaned forward, unhappy with his son's reluctance. "Well?"

"Y-yes sir." Tygra nodded respectfully and hurried out of the office.

* * *

Siberim was a large Thunderian. Tygra had to crane his neck back just to look at him. Wow, and his mother thought _he_ had wild hair. Siberim's mane was longer than most Tygra males, and the pale fur on the back of his neck and elbows was longer than normal as well. Tygra knew the general appearances of all the sub-clans academically, but he'd yet to see them all in person. Siberim looked like a bad cross between a Tygra and an Ounceo. Tygra tried not to laugh.

Siberim caught the suppressed look and smirked. "Well, you look funny to me too, young Tygra." When Tygra had the grace to look ashamed at his thoughts, Siberim leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, "Ever seen a Jagarundya? There's one silly looking cat!"

Tygra managed a smile and tried to relax, but the close proximity of a stranger, sub-clansman or not, was making him nervous. Still, he would do as his father commanded.

The flight was a long one, for while the ship was a fast, it was small and could only hold so much fuel. Siberim would not unnecessarily burn it to push the engines for a shorter trip. Tygra passed the time asking about the Siberim clan and then the events at the quarry. It was a relatively new quarry and not much stone had been removed when an odd system of caves was uncovered. Quite curious since initial scans had shown no such thing. A few of the diggers thought they had found signs of previous habitation and a team of archaeologists were called out to investigate. An unknown site of ruins could be important for Thunderan history, but there was also the question of how they caves had remained hidden.

Leopara was there to meet them when the aircraft landed. She wore no clothes save for a pair of heavy boots and a tool belt, allowing her ease of movement through small passages in the caves. Her long spotted hair was pulled back into a tight bun. By her side stood a middle-aged female snarf whom Tygra recognized but could not recall the name.

Like other Thunderians, snarfs preferred to keep their real names to themselves and use variations of the Snarf name, but Tygra could not remember even what that was. He had Tassos to blame for that. Too late, the snarf recognized him.

"Well well, snarf, it's the little Tygra cousin! I didn't expect that!"

"Good to see you too…uh…Snarfette." He flinched, expecting her to be angry with him for referring to her by that silly pet name, though it wasn't the worst one he'd heard. Siberim and Leopara certainly looked taken aback.

Snarfette only laughed. She turned to Leopara and explained, "I often work with this one's cousin out on the sites at the frontier. Snarf! Sometimes Tygra brings his little cousin here along, he does like the old buildings, snarf."

Like many of the Tygra clan, Tassos had dedicated his studies to history, more specifically, ancient cooking, of all things. The ruins of the frontier had many well-preserved cellars and what were currently believed to be communal kitchens for him to sift through. Tassos often took Tygra with him to assist, and when Tygra wasn't helping he was free to observe the surviving structures. He loved studying their designs and make, to see what materials used survived for so long and what did not, what types of spaces could withstand time. Kitchens and bathhouses, strangely enough. Wandering amongst those remote places, touching the walls of his ancestors, he felt better attuned to the histories he'd read so diligently.

But if he was assistant to Tassos, Tassos was in turn often the assistant to the so-named Snarfette. He had given her a few names during their time together and Tygra had the misfortune of hearing them all. Tassos would also call her "Snarfer-pie" or "Snarfa-babe," or even just flat out "Babe."

Tassos had always been the eccentric one.

"Well," Leopara cleared her throat and decided it was safer to get down to business. After a quick explanation from Siberim of Tygra's purpose, she and Snarfette led them to a partially caved-in entrance.

There were indeed signs of previous habitation in the caves, at two different times. Far within the caves where the levels dropped were some ancient burn pits, small bits of bone and pot sherds scattered about. Tygra stared in awe at some faded paintings on the cave walls. This was one of the oldest finds and could possibly shed some light on the forgotten pre-history of Thundera. Leopara then led them into a passage that was more elevated than the rest. The remains here were newer, more preserved and broken remnants of tools and small machines were attached to the walls.

"We think this place was where survivors of the Cataclysm took refuge. While this is a fantastic find, I think this is what you'll find interesting, Siberim," Leopara said and again led into another passage. There was no sign of habitation here, if anything, it looked recently dug up. The leopard brushed aside some dirt that had settled on where the wall had been chipped at and revealed a strange metallic ore.

"We think this is why the surveyors couldn't find the caves. From what we've observed, this mineral is found in a thin lair all through the rock. It seems to reflect our scans, making everything underneath practically invisible. It's possible our ancestors may have even fled here for this reason."

Siberim whistled in appreciation. Tygra had to agree with the sentiment.

"I'll definitely get more of my clansmen out here. This may even prove useful in the war with Plundarr."

Snarfette nodded in agreement. "Yes, but there is only the one layer of this mineral found here. We've already got people surveying for another strain, but that's not my job, snarf."

"Well, one thing's for certain, this quarry is finished." Siberim shook his head. Whiile the find was incredible on all levels, he would have to remove his people and begin surveys for a new site. The archaeologists would at least have a job for a while.

Tygra could not help but step forward and lightly brush his fingers on the strange new mineral. "May I have a sample of this to take back to my father? We could uncover its properties in full in our labs."

"I already have a few samples for you to take back to Cats' Lair, as well as a more complete report on a data plate."

He nodded in thanks, rubbing the powdery residue between his fingers. Something that could naturally hide someone from scanners? What else could this miraculous mineral do?

* * *

Siberim had offered to drop Tygra off at his clan estates, but the young tiger declined. Siberim would have his hands full as it was, and Tygra could make it home on his own. The sun was past its zenith, but there was still plenty of daylight left and the city was usually busy until well after dark. Over his shoulder Tygra carried a satchel he had borrowed containing the mineral samples and the data plate.

Tygra was feeling pretty good. Despite his initial hesitations, he had enjoyed himself and was glad to have a chance to see the site first hand. He couldn't wait to tell Panthro and Cheetara all about it. Boy would they be jealous!

He stopped at a public kiosk and started digging around for his ident plate to summon a transport. He was still digging through the satchel when it suddenly became dark. He stopped, his hand still in the bag. It was too early for darkness and it came much too quick. There were no eclipses due that he knew of.

He looked upwards in time with the sudden cries that echoed up and down the streets.

An enormous Plundarrian ship descended upon the city, blotting out the sun.


	3. Stepping Up

Tygra came to to muffled explosions and cries, all around him was darkness. He sat up and was assaulted by dizziness. He moaned and a faint light suddenly appeared.

"Hush, young noble," hissed a stranger, leaning over him.

What happened?

He must have spoken aloud as the stranger turned back to him. The spotted facial fur identified him as a male Lynx-O, well into his prime. He held a small candle up to Tygra, observing him. The only other light was a dim glow coming through the cracks of a window.

"You were struck in the head, young Tygra. One of the buildings collapsed."

Tygra tried to remember that. He remembered seeing the ship descending upon the city, opening fire and raining down devastation. Of the screams of those around him, many panicking and running. Of knowing only one thought.

Get to the palace, protect his home and family.

But the panicked crowds pushed and diverted him. He too began to panic, and thrust himself from them into the wall of a near building. He swallowed, trying to take his fear back down. He recalled his father's words, to maintain a sense of calm, to use the fear as a focal point to what needed to be done. Remember the Code.

After that was a mere flash of images and senses. Of a loud boom that echoed forever, the smell of fire, the shaking of the earth beneath him and vertigo, and of a large shape falling down upon him. There was nothing after that, but he felt the slight pull of hastily placed bandages on his forehead. How long had he been out?

"I need to get home!" he cried, jumping out of the cot. A momentary dizzy spell hit him but he shook it off.

Lynx-O stood aside but said gravely, "I cannot stop you, but there is not much you can do. Look." He moved through the dark to the covered window and drew aside the wooden drapes. Outside the skies were dark and heavy with clouds of smoke. What light there was came from fires dispersed throughout the city. The great Plundarrian ship hovered above, hardly damaged by any returning fire. Much of the city burned, but the ship was focused upon Cats' Lair.

"They come for the legendary Treasure of Thundera."

Tygra looked up at the lynx. He was a strong man and did not look the type to remain hidden as his home was attacked. He was here because of Tygra.

"I can still try, those are my countrymen."

Lynx-O nodded. "Then take this," he removed a dagger from his belt and placed it in Tygra's hand, "Good luck, young Thundercat."

"Thank you, Lynx-O." He wished he could say more, but there was no time. He didn't even bother hunting for the door, but used his youthful size to his advantage and jumped through the window, out into the smoky streets.

* * *

Whatever mutant forces had invaded, they were mostly focused on Cats' Lair, leaving the streets relatively open. But the ship above still let loose a barrage of fire that scorched the streets. Skycutters buzzed about the skies like metallic gnats until the cowardly mutants spotted some helpless prey, like a lone youth running for the palace.

But Tygra was not helpless.

The skycutter, piloted by one of the lizardmen, dove low, raking the tattered street with laser fire. Tygra dodged, rolling to the side and flipping back to his feet in a crouch, waiting for another pass. Mutants were predictable at best and the skycutter dove low once more. Tygra bound for the near wall of a collapsed building and, using it as a springboard, leapt to the skycutter as it flew past. The lizard man shrieked in surprise as the Thundercat took hold of the grips and swung his body around, using his weight to throw the mutant from the vehicle. Tygra quickly set himself into the seat, trying to steer.

Plundarrian technology was as yet a mystery to him, and the awkward machine spun under him as its former pilot's weight vanished. Tygra struggled with the controls, managing enough to turn the skycutter towards Cats' Lair. He didn't dare fly too high and be noticed, more worried about the return fire of the Thunderians than the mutants, but also not too confidant with his own piloting skills.

"When this is over, I'm getting Panthro to teach me to fly!"

Unfortunately the mutant ship above had no concern for its fellows. A flash was the only warning Tygra had as a large beam shot from the ship. He threw his weight to the side, forcing the skycutter to roll, but too late. The right wing was struck. The machine jerked horribly and spun as Tygra fought for control. Knowing the machine was a lost cause, he aimed to land as best he could.

Tygra guided the skycutter down towards an already decimated cluster of buildings, its inhabitants long fled. He waited until the vehicle nearly touched down and leapt off, angling his landing to compensate for his continued movement. The skycutter did no such thing and crashed into the skeletal remains with the sound of metal giving and the last sputter of the engine. He winced at the sound and quickly moved to the shadows, looking about him.

The skycutter had carried him far. He was closer to Cats' Lair and the city here was certainly suffering for its proximity. He saw figures approaching through the haze, large and armored. The sound of the crash had attracted them, no doubt. Gripping his dagger tightly, he waited for the mutants to approach. His hand was shaking slightly, but he tried to ignore it. This was not training or a simulation, this was real, and people were dying around him. Anger wound its way through him, and he stilled his hand. The mutants approached and he shifted upwards, positioning himself higher on the wall he hid behind. They were within reach.

With a snarl, Tygra leapt, dagger raised, all his fury behind the coming blow. It did not land. The supposed mutants turned at his cry and the closest grabbed his wrists and flung him to the ground, weapon raised.

"Stop!" a second cried and grabbed hold of the first, "It is one of our countrymen!"

It was then Tygra saw that they were not mutants at all, but Thunderian militia. They were of one of the lion sub-clans, the Barbaro, judging by their size and slight prognathism of the face. His new captor realized this at the same moment and immediately released him.

"More than that, hardly more than a kitten!" The Barbaro pulled Tygra to his feet, but barely gave him a chance to speak before they were pulling him with them. They were taking him the wrong way.

"Wait! I need to get back to Cats' Lair!"

"You must be taken to safety, young noble. The best thing you can do is stay out of the way."

Tygra snarled and yanked his arm free. He was a Thundercat. An untried one, yes, but one nonetheless, and he would not go hide somewhere. How could he when he was expected to uphold the Code of Thundera? Without a word he turned and sprinted back the way they had come. He could hear the Barbaro calling for him, but he ignored them.

* * *

Tygra stared up at the sky, still darkened by clouds but blessedly lacking a ship or skycutters. He had barely reached the outer gates of Cats' Lair when the Plundarrian ship gave a great groan and began to ascend. He could only watch as it vanished through the clouds and, eventually, the great hum of its engines vanished.

They had won?

He gripped the large gate before him and sat down, adrenaline still rushing through him making him shake. He did not realize how long he sat there until a female Jaga took his shoulder and helped him stand. He said nothing as she took him inside.

He later learned that the mutant warlord Ratilla had breached Cats' Lair with the intent to steal the Treasure of Thundera, but Jaga the Wise had stopped him with the Sword of Omens. Ratilla was captured, and with his defeat the mutants had fled. Any who had been left behind had been easily been taken prisoner. They were safe.

Safe… Tygra thought. Was everyone safe? He had to get home!

The Jaga had taken Tygra to the medical wing and sat him down to wait to be looked after. As he was not seriously injured, he had been left alone. He flung aside the thin blanket he had been given and hurried through the halls, seeking the way out. With everything that had happened, the adults paid him no mind as he ran past them.

Transports were all in use to move the injured and clear roads and he thanked the First Ones that the estates were so close. New strength burst through him as worrying thoughts gnawed at him. Was his family safe? He couldn't recall having run so fast in his life.

He did not stop at the gates and burst through the main doors. The hall was empty. He hesitated, unsure if that was a good sign or bad.

"Hello!" he croaked, his throat sore from the smoke, but was already running to the doors opposite without waiting for a reply. These doors led him to the clan council hall, if anyone was within the home they'd be there. He had not even traversed the hallway when someone short swept into his vision.

"Tygra! Shnerf! You're alive!" Snarfus leapt into his arms with an agility Tygra didn't think the old snarf still had and clasped his shoulders tightly. "Where have you been?"

Tygra stared at the snarf numbly, his mind rolling over too many thoughts at once. He finally managed to utter, "My family…?"

Snarfus dropped from his arms and began to lead the way to the council hall. He wagged his tail a bit and Tygra, dazed as he was, took hold of it and let Snarfus lead him like an infant.

"Your father is at Cats' Lair with the other nobles. They need to deal with the aftermath, shnerf, he is alright. Same with your mother, last I heard. Isaura knows more."

There were still others to account for. Most of his clan would have remained to defend the home and family, especially the young ones, but those of Thundercat class would have gone to defend the palace. His father and mother were among them, but they were safe, his aunt and uncle too, and Tassos and Corydon.

With them gone, it was he who had to take charge. First he had to get information from Isaura, then he would get complete accountability of his clan, those missing would be found. The sub-clans would have to be contacted and the same done for them, he would have to take account of casualties and injuries and then…

His head spun.

"Tygra?" Snarfus inquired. The usually quick boy had seemed out of it since he'd come in. "Are you injured? Shnerf, that looks like a nasty gash, we should take you back to Cats' Lair."

That woke Tygra up. "No," he stated, "I'm fine."

Snarfus continued his scrutinizing gaze, but then led Tygra through the doors to the council hall.

The council hall, a miniature of the one in Cats' Lair, was packed with his clansmen. Tygra was relieved as he quickly surveyed them and guessed most were present. He heard a gasp and turned to see a distant cousin approach him.

"You're alive!" she sobbed, taking hold of his shoulders. Soon many a Tygra had gathered around him, demanding to know where he'd been, what had happened, what they were to do. Their loud voices echoed in his head, pounding like a hammer and the room spun.

"Enough!" a sharp voice cracked, "Give him room!"

Another set of hands took hold of his shoulders and led him away to the far side of the hall where the great tapestry depicting their sacred First Ones hung. He'd always liked looking at it, the entire history of his clan was woven in its borders, and he saw more with every viewing.

Isaura pulled out one of the chairs from the council table and bade her cousin to sit. She was Karan's elder daughter and had been left in charge while Cleatus and the other Thundercats had gone to defend the Lair. She had the misfortune of inheriting her father's bad eyesight and decided to forego Thundercat training. Karan had been disappointed, but understood her decision. It was only recently he had corrective lenses made for his eyes, and they had a tendency to fly off in battle, despite cautions built into them to prevent such a thing. Isaura had no such things for her lenses, but they definitely seemed more comfortable. She knelt in front of Tygra and looked him over, but seeing nothing more serious than the gash on his head, stood up and sat in a chair beside him.

"They're looking to you," was all she said.

He nodded. "I know. Fill me in."

And so Isaura told him how the attack had come unexpected, but that the Thundercats had swiftly left for Cats' Lair. As they were instructed, the remaining Tygra came to the council hall, ready to barricade themselves in and defend if it came to that. But the attack never came and save for a few wayward mutants and laser blasts from the ship the estates were left alone. All were present save three who had been out in the city, one of them her youngest sister whom often stayed after school. They had only received word from Cats' Lair that Cleatus and Edeline were alive and well.

That sent a shudder up Tygra's spine. No word on Karan and Sophia? Tassos or Corydon? What about Panthro and the others? There was little he could do about that, and Isaura looked as anguished as he, if not more so.

"What's the status of our communications?"

"I wouldn't count on them."

"Right." He got up and looked at his clansmen. They stood silently, waiting for instruction. He was about to speak and then, realizing his height disadvantage, climbed up onto the table so they all could see him.

"Clansmen," Tygra began, nearly jumping when his voice broke, "I need runners to go to our sub-clans and gather accountability reports, as well as runners to seek our missing kin. You will go to designated areas; no one is to wander."

The volunteers were selected and sent out into the city to the clans and to medical facilities or shelters. Snarfus volunteered to return to Cats' Lair and receive news on the Thundercats.

"Isaura, I need you lead the rest of our kin to check the estate and report damages to me. Structural, electrical…"

"I would rather go find Kalare, Tygra."

"No, I need you here."

Something akin to betrayal flashed in her eyes, then the smoldering of anger. He could understand it, she was grown, and he, barely an adolescent, had denied her to find her missing sister. But he could not heed it. He was young and would need her guidance and aid in taking charge of the clan until his father returned. Or what if he froze, unable to do anything? She would need to step up again. Instead he called over one of the few remaining Tygra and instructed her to go to the school that his young cousin attended. It was built from an obsolete fort to accommodate training simulations for young Thundercats who attended there, and so had an old bomb shelter beneath it. The children would be there, if anywhere.

Tygra stepped down from the table, weariness seeming to weigh him down. Isaura was angry with him, he could feel it. So he met her eyes and held them, waiting for her to challenge him on the matter. Muttering angrily, she turned away and gathered three of their clansmen to help search the estate.

When she left, Tygra sat down in his chair with a sigh. His head was pounding. The only people left in the hall was himself and those too old or young to help. He couldn't relax yet.

But he didn't know what to do with them, either.

* * *

Isaura gazed down at her sleeping cousin. What anger she'd had had vanished as she'd scoured their home, noting all the serious damages. He was too young to have to do this now, and she couldn't leave him. They all would have to wait for news on their loved ones.

Tygra had apparently tried to calm the youngest of those that remained with him, he was fast asleep, slumped on the floor against the wall with a cub nestled in his arms, two others curled up beside him. She didn't want to wake him, and was tempted to take the reports from the returning runners herself, but didn't come to a decision before his eyes opened and he struggled to his feet.

"Sorry," he said, rocking the cub slightly when she began to squirm.

Isaura wasn't sure if he meant for falling asleep or something else. She just nodded instead.

"Some of the runners are back, they found two of our missing clansmen, one of them Kalare, the other is Myles who was injured, but it's not life threatening."

"Who's still missing?"

"Octavius."

A great-uncle on his mother's side. He was half Jaeva and visited that clan often.

"When the runner from the Jaeva clan returns ask him if they knew of Octavius' whereabouts."

"Shnerf! Tygra! They're back!"

Tygra and Isaura both turned as Snarfus came charging into the hall. The cub Tygra held woke and began to wail and he was relieved when she was taken by one of the elders.

Cleatus and Edeline entered behind Snarfus, both battle-worn but wonderfully whole. Cleatus' eyes fell on his son, also no worse for wear, and it seemed as if a great weight lifted from him, but not a great sorrow.

Karan followed behind his brother, his corrective lenses missing leaving the tear tracks on his face visible for all. Behind him was Corydon, supporting Tassos who was visibly shaking, his gaze on the floor.

Isaura gasped, she saw what Tygra saw: someone was missing.

Tygra approached his father and met him halfway across the council hall, then stood before him in a formal position, hands behind his back politely but with his feet parted in a strong stance. However, his words were not strong.

"Where is Aunt Sophia?"

His father's face told him all, and Tassos let loose a wail before crumpling to the floor, openly sobbing. Corydon tried to comfort him but was pushed away for his efforts.

Cleatus whispered something to Edeline who nodded, before he took Tygra gently by the shoulders and steered him out of the room. Tygra didn't remember the journey but his father led him to his office and shut the door. He knelt down to Tygra's level and said in such a steady voice that it could only be a mockery of Tygra's earlier words:

"Fill me in."

And Tygra did, though he could feel tears running down his face the whole time.


	4. Bad Day

IV

Tygra wandered down the extensive hallway, a carefully wrapped parcel in his hands. He had specifically asked for it from Snarf, the baby Lion-O's nursemaid, and had brought it from Cats' Lair. Snarf was famous for his cooking, especially his treats, and Tygra knew of at least one who could use the cheering up. Tassos had barely left his room since his mother's death, and Tygra was sure he hadn't been eating or sleeping well.

They were not the only ones to suffer loss. The Cheetara clan lost many of its Thundercats as, being the swiftest, they had arrived first and fought to hold back the mutant forces alone until the arrival of the others. Saddest of all was the head of the Wily clan, in labor at the time of the attack, had died giving birth to her twins. As was proper, her sister stepped up to lead the clan while her husband turned his attention to the raising of the cubs.

Twins were a rarity, and both would carry the Wily name until they reached adulthood, when the elder twin would take up her position. This was due to the old days, when it was common for one of the twins to perish before adulthood. Tradition tended to outlast their origins.

Tygra reached Tassos' door and listened. There was no sound from within, and so he knocked lightly. Still nothing. He tried the doorknob and found it unlocked so he opened the door slightly and stuck his head in.

"Tassos?"

His cousin sat at an ornate desk, piled high with books, though many had been shoved to the floor. As far as Tygra could tell he was doing nothing, just staring with his chin resting in his hands.

"Cousin?" he tried again, entering the room and shutting the door behind him. "I brought you something to eat."

"I don't want it."

Tygra sighed and risked pressing his cousin. "You need to eat. It's from Snarf, one of his famous pies and…"

"I said I don't want it."

"But…"

Tassos whirled in his chair, furious. "Get out, Theron!"

Tygra took a step back in shock, nearly dropping the pie. After acknowledgement even his family was to call him by the clan name. His cousin had just disrespected him.

Anger washed through him, followed by hurt. But both were an unacceptable reaction and so he used neither, but swallowed them down. Tassos was grieving, and it was best just to leave. He did so without a word, leaving the pie behind on the bed. The door shut behind him with a click, and Tygra just stood there.

Someone approached, and Tygra looked up to see Corydon regard him sadly.

"My brother is not taking our loss well."

"I'm sorry," Tygra said, realizing he had yet to say it at all.

"Don't be, I am…I'll be alright. I mourn my mother's loss as I did love her, but we never got along."

True enough. Sophia had been a fierce Thundercat, legendary with her scimitar, and wanted her sons to follow. Tassos embraced the blade and the front line readily, but Corydon, a poet by trade, had wished a less offensive form and had learned martial arts under Nox with Panthro. Tygra had never understood how that could have been the root of their contention, but they had kept their family issues private, as was proper.

Corydon smiled at his little cousin and turned to leave.

"Remember, cousin," he called over his shoulder, "a Thundercat need not always be on the front line. Speed, stealth, cunning; use what you have."

* * *

Tygra squirmed in his seat, silent amongst the other children his age who were all laughing or chatting gaily with each other. He didn't know any of them.

He wanted his friends, Panthro and Cheetara, but they were in classes with other youths their own age. His classmates all knew each other from the previous season and had settled easily back into their circles. He felt very alone.

Deciding not to waste this free time, he pulled his new drawing plate from his satchel and began to doodle. It was of very fine quality, the plate was smooth like glass and did not scratch even when he scribbled with his claws, and the outer edges encased in a tough plastic that would protect it if dropped. There was even a slot in which to place the pen when it was not in use so it would not get lost.

It had been a gift from Tassos, along with an offer to take Tygra to the frontier ruins one more time before he started classes. Tygra had accepted the apology happily. Tassos had still seemed down the whole trip, but he was recovering. At night, Tygra would listen intently as his cousin told him tales of his aunt Sophia he'd never known, such as her own sorrows when she lost her lover.

Tassos' father had not been wed to Sophia when he was born, but it was an idea the two had entertained when she became pregnant with Corydon. Unfortunately, he had died before he ever saw his second son. Tassos had been but a cub then, but he remembered it clearly.

"I'm a horrible son," he had admitted sadly, though a ghost of a smile flickered on his lips, "I don't even remember his name."

Tygra wondered why he'd never looked it up in the clan archives, but hadn't asked. He'd done it himself when they returned home. His name had been Darius.

He stopped and regarded his drawing. He had started with the basic designs of a starcraft, but it had degraded into a silly doodle of a young tiger riding on top, Sword of Omens in hand and chasing away stick-figure mutants. He didn't think it was supposed to be him, but he wasn't sure. In the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a leopard glancing over his shoulder, but when he looked, she turned away and ignored him.

Oh yeah, this was going to be a fantastic season.

Something decided to go Tygra's way when the instructor arrived, shutting the door behind him. The kits all scattered back to their seats, quieted but not entirely silent as they whispered and giggled to each other.

The instructor was of the Smylodos clan, large and intimidating, with two long canines protruding from his mouth. They were a very old clan, and one of the few that could not claim a parent clan. They had a reputation of being quite ferocious, if not untrustworthy. A reputation they had been fighting for years, only to have their efforts ruined by the traitor Grune, who had been banished by Jaga. Well, his instructor certainly belied the stereotype. Intimidating he appeared, but it all stopped there. Master Smylodos set down his books and data plates and faced the class with a big, toothy smile.

"Good to see you all back again, children!" he boomed.

Suddenly the young cats began to all talk at once, shouting out hellos and guess whats! Tygra jumped in his seat. The instructor seemed very popular.

"One at a time, one at a time," Master Smylodos said, gesticulating with his hands. The class quieted, but there was still some stray gabbing in the corners. He cleared his throat and gave them a false baleful glare, but it worked nonetheless and the kits grew quiet. "Now, I'm sure you all have a lot to tell me about your breaks, and I want to know, so I'll expect an essay from each of you on my desk by tomorrow…"

He was drowned out by the collective groan.

"I know, I know, shut up." He continued his previous instructions, "About what you did over break. It's a free write, but I expect good grammar and spelling counts. I want two pages, and no writing large to take up space.

"Anyway, welcome back to Language and Composition. Since we covered the basics last season, you'll find my expectations of you have increased…"

Tygra didn't mean to be rude, but he soon zoned out and let his mind fly him away elsewhere. He wasn't so proud as to think he would gain nothing from the class, but he was already well versed in the art of writing. What we did over break? Wasn't he too old for that now? As the actual lesson began and Tygra tried to take notes, he found himself more likely to doodle in the margins. His mind wandered towards the new mineral from the caves.

He had been taking notes then, in the labs with his father and Nox as they studied the new find. The new mineral absorbed certain signals, making it invisible to scanners. When mixed with certain chemicals, it produced a substance with the remarkable ability to alter its molecular state, making the solid substance as flexible as a cat's tail. Cleatus and Nox could still jump around like schoolboys in excitement when they wanted to.

"Tygra."

He snapped out of his reverie and stood up. "Yes?"

Master Smylodos was surprised by his reaction. "You don't need to stand," he said kindly.

Tygra felt his face flush at the sound of sniggering behind him and sat down.

"I didn't expect any new students this late in the cycle, I'm sorry I didn't see you."

I'm red with stripes, Tygra thought caustically, how can you miss me?

He didn't want to be here.

* * *

The midday meal couldn't come soon enough. Several instructors had rotated through the classroom, one for each subject, and Tygra had tried to be interested in what they had to teach. He thought he would be challenged when their hour of physical training arrived and the children moved outside into the fields. But he was a Thundercat, and their training was more like a game to him. Still, it had been more fun than sitting in a classroom, and he was glad to see his fellow Thunderians took their training as seriously as any Thundercat would.

Their instructor was a female Jaga, and Tygra had trouble referring to her by clan name. He knew the social etiquettes as well as anybody, but after growing up under Jaga the Wise, a true Thundercat hero, he could match no one else with that name. He stuck with polite titles, but he could see she was a little annoyed with him.

But lunch came at last, and the students were released to go home to eat, or wherever else they were needed. Some students with duties elsewhere wouldn't come back at all, and Tygra was thankfully one of those.

He spotted Cheetara emerging from one of the smaller buildings across the courtyard and hurried over to her. She greeted him warmly, though with a little confusion.

"I didn't know you'd started classes," she said as the two fell into step and began to walk in the direction of the school gate.

"Unfortunately."

"Oh, it's not that bad, it was just the first day of the season. It gets better. Just be glad you weren't here for the beginning of the cycle. I was so bored, I kept getting in trouble for falling asleep!"

Somehow, he couldn't imagine that. Cheetara was highly intelligent and he could certainly see her boredom, but Tygra had never even seen the cheetah tired, much less asleep. She was quite… what was the word Panthro had used? Hyperactive. Granted, she had calmed a little over the years, and he expected she would continue to do so, but for now she was his friend Cheetara, who loved to race him and wait long periods of time at the finish line just to _mua ha ha_ at him when he finally got there.

"Where's Panthro?" he asked suddenly as the two left the school.

Cheetara shrugged. "Sometimes I see him, sometimes I don't. He's got friends his own age, after all."

"And how about you? I heard from your mother that you've been having bad headaches lately."

That got a response, though it was gone before Tygra could see what it was. "I'm okay, just a little head cold, is all."

"Oh."

"Hey, wait up!"

The two young cats turned to see Panthro running up behind them. They eyed each other and then, with mock cries, turned and ran in the direction of Cats' Lair, Panthro in pursuit, cursing them the whole way there.

* * *

The training sword hit the floor with a clatter and Tygra could only stare at it. He didn't want to look up and see the disappointment in Jaga's eyes. The daily Thundercat training was not going well. He'd been struggling all day and then he'd left himself wide open.

The room was silent. Oh First Ones, they were all _watching_ him…

When it came to swordplay, Tygra was not Jaga's best student, but the level of absentmindedness he was displaying was worrisome. Enough was enough.

"That's all for today."

The young Thundercats stood silent a moment, confused by the unexpected command, but then began to replace their weapons and file out the door. Tygra stood and waited for Jaga to tell him to stay, but it never came.

"Well?" Jaga prompted, gesturing for him to leave. Tygra hesitated, and then retrieved the sword before heading towards the weapons rack and outside to freedom.

"Panthro, stay after a moment, if you please."

That stopped Tygra in his tracks. Why Panthro? What did he do? He wanted to stay, but he knew Jaga would not tolerate his eavesdropping. He stepped out the door and waited, hearing the conversation but not understanding.

* * *

"Yes, Jaga?"

"Panthro, you are one of my best students, and I don't get to tell you enough how proud I am of your progression."

Panthro felt his face warm and coughed. "Thank you."

"Which is why I want you to spend a little extra time training with young Tygra. I would do it myself, I know he has within him the ability to be a great Thundercat, but I believe his problems lie elsewhere. A friend would be more helpful than a teacher."

"He's just having a bad day, starting classes and all. You know how he is. But I'll do as you ask."

Jaga placed a hand on Panthro's shoulder. "Thank you. I'm sure you'll both benefit."

Panthro bowed, departing formally and stepping out of the training gym. It was a large building, located behind Cats' Lair, and shading him from the already setting sun. He turned to face Tygra, slumped against the wall exactly where the panther expected him. The two just stared at each other in awkward silence a minute.

"Well?"

Panthro arched an eyebrow. "'Well' what?"

"What did he say about me?"

"Heh, not everything's about you, you know."

Tygra shrugged. "You weren't the one messing up today, I was. What was it then?"

"Jaga suggests we spend some time training together. I know you better than he does, so he thinks I can help."

"I'm fine."

"I don't think so. You couldn't focus at all today and that's unacceptable for a Thundercat, even at our age! You need to do better."

All Tygra could see was that sword, slipped from his hand like an amateur. "I will do better. I must!" he declared in the emphatic fashion he was developing. It would have been more impressive if his voice didn't choose that moment to break.

"Good." Panthro walked down the path to Cats' Lair, Tygra quickly following. "Ever think the sword isn't for you? Maybe hand to hand…?"

"It's possible," Tygra conceded, honestly weary of the whole conversation.

The two friends walked in companionable silence back to the great cat presiding over the city, their shadows overlapping.

"Bad day…" they both muttered.


	5. The Perfect Weapon

V

The headphones were still too big, but at least they stayed on his head now. It wasn't that long ago that Tygra had to hold the things over his ears.

He sat at an empty console in the Cat's Head, tuned in on the frequency of the general broadcast from the academy. Except for some late shift staff, he had the normally busy room to himself. Cats' Lair was the hub of an extensive network of towers all over Thundera, allowing the Thundercats to monitor events all over the globe, but the analytical work of uncommon findings was done at the academy.

Usually Tygra listened in only on the public lecture channels. Most classes at the academy broadcast their lectures and discussions, allowing any who wished to listen in and learn. For Tygra, it wasn't enough. He couldn't wait until he was old enough to sit in those lecture halls, see the lesson and participate in the discussions as well as hear.

As Cheetara had promised, his general schooling had improved some. While it was due in part to the increasing difficulty of the curriculum, it was mostly Master Smilodos' doing, when he had pulled Tygra aside after lesson to discuss the first paper he had written for the class. A free write, he had stressed, not a new hypothesis on the date of the emergence of Thundercats among Thunderians that was well over the two page limit.

Tygra had scratched the back of his neck and said plaintively, "Well, that's what I did over break. My cousin's an archaeologist, you see and…"

"Tygra," Master Smilodos sighed, "let me tell you something. I have taught many young Thundercats in my classes, and there is one pattern I can see. To be a Thundercat, the best of all Thunderians, is a thing to be proud of. But those who have been happiest in my classes are those who, for a few hours in this room, pretend that they are commoners."

Tygra didn't know what to say to that.

The saber-toothed cat's soft look hardened a little. "However, I will not permit you to lower your standards. I can provide you with alternate assignments if you find it necessary, and if you truly find yourself unchallenged in this class, I can put in a petition for a waiver to place you in a class with older children. It's not uncommon with Thundercats."

Tygra had readily agreed, but later learned that, despite its common occurrence, he was probably not going to get that waiver. His parents forbid it, and his mother had stressed to him again the importance of socializing with kits his own age. If he needed extra education, he could study on his own time.

So here he was, dreaming of academy days to come. But when he'd first entered the Cat's Head, earlier in the evening, he had overheard discussions of strange data that had been sent to the academy and switched over to that channel. For the next few hours he listened to reports on random seismic activity in strange locations. In fact, the way they talked about it, it sounded as though it wasn't the first time it had been noticed…

Cleatus cleared his throat.

The headphones hit the console with a clatter as Tygra jumped, his fur standing on end. He spun around in the chair and found his father towering over him, a look on his face that, at that time, was indescribable. It wouldn't be until years later when Tygra would think back on it as the True Doom Gaze.

"Good evening, Father," Tygra said, regaining his composure.

"It was."

Oh, crap.

"It was the strangest thing," Cleatus continued, almost cordially, "I was in the middle of reading some highly important geographical reports when Nox asked me to come look at some security tapes. Seems one of the skycutters we captured and modified was found missing, and what do you suppose I see on that security tape?"

His father was on a roll, and the thunder would follow, it was best to stay quiet. Tygra's only hope was that there were others in the room and his father wouldn't punish him here. Tygra clan did not settle familial disputes in public.

"Nothing! It was very strange, the cutter just…disappeared. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Uh…"

Cleatus leaned close and lowered his voice, making him even more frightful in his seething anger. "Just because I don't possess the mind power doesn't mean I don't recognize it when I see its effects."

Tygra swallowed and stammered, "I- I wanted to practice flying, Sir. We brought it back…"

"Yes, you did, else do you think I would be just _talking_ to you about it now?" Cleatus stood back again, letting his anger drain out, and then he caught Tygra's full words. "'We?' Who else was with you?"

Tygra placed the headphones back in its cradle, saying nothing. Cleatus did not appreciate that, but maintained his calm mien.

"I don't need to ask, do I? I'll talk to Nox about Panthro later, _after_ I tell your mother about your little mind games." He smirked at Tygra's visible wince, Edeline's anger was something even he feared at times, and she took her mind power very seriously.

In truth, Cleatus wasn't angry anymore, and his initial anger had been reactionary. Tygra was still a boy, and Cleatus himself had done worse in his youth. Many of them quite funny, in hindsight. But discipline was needed, Tygra was young, yes, but old enough now to know better.

"You understand my disappointment, correct? Whatever your intentions, you took that modified skycutter without leave by way of deceit. Is that of the Code?"

"No, Sir."

"No. It was also unnecessary, as you know there are small craft available for you kits."

"They're not any good…" Tygra muttered to himself. Practice craft, they were old and bore many marks of crashes by the inexperienced. They were harder to handle than any other craft he had known. His father shot him another stern glare at his comment.

"Anyway," Cleatus swung himself so he could lean against the console. He noted that the minimal crew of Cat's Head was pointedly ignoring them. "I'll let your mother deal with your punishment, but for my part, you are to come straight to me after lessons for duty, and you are banned from the library for the time being."

Tygra groaned, embellishing a little so that the punishment seemed greater than it was. It didn't work.

"What else," Cleatus pondered, "Wily is a busy man as of late, with two cubs to raise alone while still aiding his sister-in-law. I think it would be a good gesture on your part to help him out a few times a week, don't you think?"

"Yessir." Tygra's groan was genuine this time. He was generally good with kittens, but the twins?

The problem with twins was that they could cry in stereo.

* * *

Panthro whirled in midair and struck downward. The staff hit the floor with a _clack!_ missing its target. Tygra rolled and thrust his own staff upwards, letting gravity do the rest of the work as the panther came down. Despite his size, Panthro was quick and in one swift movement grabbed hold of the staff end and twisted it as he landed. Tygra either had to let go or get thrust to the ground. He chose the former and leapt for Panthro before he hit the floor.

And suddenly found he was the one on the floor.

"How…?"

"I win," Panthro beamed. He stood, pulling Tygra up from where he pinned him. "I hate to say it, kiddo, but you're really not the best at this."

Tygra had grown some as of late and did not have to crane his neck back very far to meet Panthro's eyes. "That's not very constructive."

"I've tried, Tygra. You don't handle close combat well, so I thought the staff would work for you."

"So you're just saying I can't fight?" Tygra was bruised in body and ego and the seemingly bald truth was more than he could bear. Panthro was as good a target for his frustration as anyone.

"I didn't say that, you're just not the best of us."

"Now _that's_ helpful!" Tygra yelled, throwing his arms out. Panthro, angry, took a step towards him.

A staff swung down and rapped both cats on the head.

"That's enough, you two," Cheetara snapped, planting the staff beside her firmly.

The two young males gaped at her. Cheetara had joined their sessions a few weeks ago and ran circles around the two, both literally and figuratively.

"Sorry, Cheetara," Tygra said, rubbing his head, "and I'm sorry, Panthro, you _have_ been helping a great deal."

"I think that's it for today," Panthro smiled, ruffling his younger friend's mane, which Tygra quickly ducked out of, "We're all wired up enough as it is."

Cheetara gathered the staves, but did not take them back to the rack, instead using them for support as she leaned in closer to her friends. "Tygra, what does your cousin do? He's not one for close combat either, right?"

It took Tygra a moment to realize to which cousin she was referring, as she did not know his name. He was merely another Tygra.

"He learned martial arts under my father with me, Cheetara," Panthro explained, "but he uses stealth to attack, not any long range weapon."

While the Tygra clan was insistent on their policy to keep domestic disputes among themselves, the Panthro clan followed a different philosophy. Any familial disputes were brought to the clan's attention and solved quickly as a whole, keeping the clan efficient and united. So many a Panthro found themselves the receptacle for a Tygra's problems. Panthro didn't mind, he just found it kind of sad that he sometimes had a better idea of what was going on in the personal lives of the premier tiger clan better than most Tygra did. So he'd known a long time the contention between Tygra's cousin and his mother, and he knew the root of it.

Corydon, though Panthro did not know that was his name, had also inherited the rare mind power, though not as to the extent of Tygra or Edeline. The best he could do was to bend others' minds away from him, so that he seemed invisible among them. True invisibility was beyond him, but it was effective enough in battle. He worked well with his brother, letting him engage the enemy while Corydon would turn their minds from him and approach unseen from behind. He would then quickly dispatch of the enemy who never knew he was there. His mother thought this tactic not of the Code, if not downright cowardly.

Regardless, Cheetara had a point. Perhaps there was another method Tygra could excel at.

The panther shrugged. "I still think you just need to find the right weapon, Tygra. These just don't suit you, or me, to be honest." Panthro was a skilled fighter with just about any weapon in his hand, but he had yet to find the one weapon he could call his own.

"Well, I don't know what you two are complaining about. This," she ran her hand up one of the staves, "feels just right." Cheetara smiled brightly, and Tygra noticed how pretty it was. While she was younger than he, like most females her age, she was already surpassing him in height and other, more lovely, developments.

He swallowed. "It is something to think about, Panthro, Cheetara. Thank you."

* * *

Karan, as the eldest sibling after Cleatus, had always stayed close to his brother over the years. It was his duty to aide the head of his clan in all matters, should the unthinkable happen and he had to replace Cleatus before Tygra came of age. Those years before Tygra's birth had left him with a gnawing fear in his gut. What if Cleatus did not produce an heir? What if Karan had to take control of the clan? It was not a thought he relished, but neither one he could escape. He breathed a very big sigh of relief the day Theron-now-Tygra was born.

But there was one duty he enjoyed above all others: the tedious work of inventorying the antiquities stored in the vault underneath the estates. He was an avid historian, and touching the old relics, naming them and recording their histories was a pleasant task that always placed him at ease. Items were categorized and placed in one of the many rooms with others of its kind. Some rooms were organized by age, others by type. Sometimes, he liked to frustrate his colleagues by switching them up. While one himself, he found historians generally dull and nothing was more amusing than their cries of annoyance when they found all the relics had been rearranged _again_.

He was, in fact, doing just that when he saw Tygra wander by, slowly perusing the doors as he looked for something. Karan blinked, his yellowish eyes made huge through the curved glass of his spectacles. Tygra didn't come down here often, and Karan found himself more than a little curious.

"Nephew," he called, stepping out of the cluttered room of scrolls that would soon be scattered about the vault, arranged by author.

Tygra turned and smiled. "Afternoon, Uncle Karan. Rearranging again? You know how cousin Alexander hates that."

Alexander wasn't Tygra's cousin so much as Karan's, but following the winding paths of kinship was his wife's job and titles were a bore.

"All the better! It'll be some time before I finish so what are you looking for? I'll get it for you."

"I don't know, Uncle. I was just wanting to look at our old weapons, if I could. They're still all in one place, right?"

Karan's arched brows shot up. Weapons? When Tygra did come down to the vault it was usually for old books dating pre-Cataclysm. "They should be, I only put them all there last week. Why?"

Tygra shrugged with an innocent little boy smile that he couldn't pull off as well as he used to. "You know me, just research."

"Hm." Karan led his nephew to one of the largest room in the vault. The Tygra had an extensive collection of ancient arms, a reminder of their violent past. Most in the collection were from the era of the Cataclysm, the most recent of violent cycles Thundera had suffered through, though a few predated even that. He stood among them, blades, spears, old firearms, more recent but obsolete laser weaponry, staves, and others, hanging upon the walls or sealed behind glass. Tygra slowly circled the room, looking at each one in turn, as though something would cry out to him 'I am the one!' This was stupid, he was grasping at straws, and yet he kept looking.

Karan leaned against the doorframe, watching with interest. It finally dawned on him, and he nearly laughed.

"I was always partial to the slingshot," he said, "before my sight got bad."

"I'm a little too old for that now."

"In the right hands, it's not a child's toy, Nephew."

Tygra nodded apologetically and kept looking. He stopped at a glass case containing smaller weapons dated post-Cataclysm. Amazingly, something had indeed cried out to him.

"Karan, may I see this one?"

His uncle leaned over his shoulder, squinting despite his spectacles. "That? We don't use those anymore, Tygra. Took a lot of skill to use them, and well…"

"I'd still like to look."

"Suit yourself." He flipped open a keypad at the far side of the case and tapped in a code. The glass before Tygra shimmered and vanished. "Go ahead. It's old, but still in decent condition. Those were used right after the Cataclysm, when Thunderians were still recovering from the disasters."

Tygra pulled it out, and the glass reappeared. It was indeed old, it's color faded and it was cracked in some parts of the handle. It fit easily in his hand, well balanced and, somehow, still thrumming with faint power begging to be released. His thumb ran over a worn ball of wood and bone, and he briefly wondered whose it was. A thought that was forgotten as, without preamble, he flung his arm outward.

The bolas lashed outward, impossibly long and arching in a graceful line from the handle. From the corner of his eye he could see Karan step forward in alarm as he too realized the dangerous balls were heading straight towards another case against the far wall. With a cry, he threw his arm back and, as though reading his thoughts, the bolas snapped backwards, flying back into the handle with a most beautiful clap.

Tygra stood there, trapped in that pose while his uncle stood stunned behind him.

"Well," Karan finally said with a cough, "that was…"

"Perfect."

"I guess so. I'd recommend fixing it up a bit before you go using it, though. It is in good shape, but it won't last through anything strenuous. And it'll take a lot of practice, something like that."

"What?" Tygra gasped, "Take it? I can't, it belongs here!"

"To do what? Rot? You said so yourself, Tygra, it's perfect." He sighed and placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "That once belonged to one of our clansmen, do them honor in it."

Tygra nodded, and clasped the bolas to his heart.

* * *

It was many days later and Tygra still seemed to do more damage to himself with the bolas than any of his targets. It was different than any other weapon he'd handled and was taking some getting used to. But it was an elegant one, and a pleasure to wield, despite his bruises.

He'd just managed to get himself wound up in it again when he noticed his mother watching him. She smiled and approached, pulling his bound arm loose so he could free himself.

"I couldn't believe it when Karan told me, but here you are. And you seem to be enjoying yourself."

"More so when I actually hit something that isn't me."

She laughed. "My poor son. I am proud of you, though I was a little surprised. A bolas?"

"Why is that so strange?"

"Well, it _is_ a woman's weapon."

Tygra stared at her blankly a moment, but all that he could say was, "Oh."

Edeline shook her head and added, "Not traditionally, of course. Thunderians used bolas to hunt ages ago, but that kind, the whip, was used by women after the Cataclysm. Things were not as they are now."

"I know. The population was so low after the disasters that women were not permitted to hunt or go into battle. They remained behind to care for the family."

"Yes, but they also had to defend it, if they must. The whip was a weapon, but used correctly it was beautiful to use and was often an art in itself. Oh don't look like that, Tygra, those days are gone."

"Yes," Tygra nodded. "But it is still obsolete, I was thinking Panthro and I could update it a little."

"I'd focus more on your form for now than adding bells and whistles. But right now," Edeline's voice pitched upward to a devilish tone, "I believe there is a pair of adorable twins who can't wait to see you. Off you go!"

Tygra groaned and retracted the whip. "You are cruel, Mother."

"Not as cruel as those two when they're late to be fed. I'd hurry if I was you."

With a perfect teenaged pout, Tygra shuffled out of the bay to an evening of hair pulling and food throwing. And kitten food was nigh impossible to get out of his fur.


	6. Sun and Earth

VI

Titania glared at her brother in as much disgust as a three-year-old could muster. The fall hadn't been that bad, but Thom was still sitting there sniffling to himself, hands on his scraped knee.

"Stop being a baby," she insisted, hands on her hips in a way she'd seen many adults use.

"I'm not," he sniffed again, but his trembling lip revealed him and he whimpered. It was the sight of the blood that had really got him, seemingly enhancing the pain. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea after all.

"Baby!" Titania had wanted to go outside all day, and as soon as their babysitters back was turned, she and Thomas had fled the nursery and found their way to the courtyard. They'd been hurrying to the lawn to play when Thomas tripped on the short marble stairway and now he wouldn't stop crying. She was trying to make him angry, to get up and chase her, and then he would forget and they could play. But the taunting only upset him and he cried more. She sighed and sat next to her twin, one arm around his shoulder, and wait for him to finish.

"Whats going on here?"

Titania and Thomas looked up to see Tygra approaching from across the lawn. He clearly had just come from training, wearing nothing but his training belt and boots and sweat matting his now short-cropped mane.

Titania stood and quickly began to explain, cramming as much information in one sentence as she could. "We were just coming outside to play Tygra nobody said we couldn't and then Thom-"

"Wilykat," Tygra corrected.

"Wilykat fell and now he won't stop crying and I was just trying to get him to stop but he wouldn't."

Tygra nodded and knelt in front of Thom, he was at his full height now, and towered above them otherwise. While Thom had stopped crying outright, he gave Tygra such a pitiful look, his hands still clasped over his knee, that the tiger had to stifle a laugh.

"Let me see," he said. At sixteen, his voice was no longer that of a soft-spoken boy, but had deepened into a bold tenor akin to his fathers. "It's not so bad, Kat. There's not a lot of blood and it should scab fine. Not even a scar."

Thomas just sniffed and nodded.

"Come on, then, lets get you two back to the nursery and Ill clean that just in case."

Wilykat held out his arms, expecting to be carried. Tygra obliged and lifted him so he could wrap his small arms around his neck and walked back into Cats Lair, Wilykit grabbing hold of his free hand. He had ceased to be their designated babysitter some time ago, but they knew him and their trust was explicit.

Kit and Kat. They were common nicknames for twins or brother and sisters who were close in age, making the use of clan names confusing. Even he'd been the recipient of the name Kat a few times in his childhood, and he had no siblings. Just far too many cousins. But the kittens were still just learning such things, Kits slip earlier was proof of that. Was this not the age any young cub began to discover the sense of self anyway? He couldn't remember. He only knew the first time someone did call him Kat he had looked behind him for another boy that didn't exist.

They hadn't made it too far into the lair when a young Wily, not much older than Tygra had been when hed been assigned to the twins, came running down the hall towards them.

"There you are!" she cried, I've been looking all over..." Wily didn't finish, just stopped before Tygra, breathing heavily as if she had been running, "by Jaga."

Swearing by Jaga was common, though no one was sure if it was by an individual or the clan as a whole. The Jaga clan was one of the oldest, established even as far back as the Great Migration. According to legends, it was Jaga who found the planet Thundera for their ancient peoples to settle, and that clan, which had survived three Cataclysms and the unknowns that came before, who had always aided their mightiest lords when they existed. Jaga had been there when the first Lion-O ascended to the throne. Since then Thundera had prospered well into an era rivaling, if not surpassing, their mythical Golden Age that had come before Thundera, on a world long forgotten.

Tygra gave the young Wily a stern glare. "May I ask how these two managed to escape you?"

"I- I only turned my back for a moment!" she choked out, fear in her eyes. Was he really that threatening? But she was just a child, and how many times had he managed to lose the twins, and they were barely crawling then! His annoyance changed to pity; the Wily clan had been named such for a reason. Tygra decided to turn the blame where it belonged.

"And why," he looked down at Wilykit, now shyly hiding behind him, "did you two run off without her?"

"We wanted to go outside."

"And you didn't think to ask? Apologize to her."

"Sorry, Aida..." both kits murmured automatically. Tygra stiffened.

"It's alright," their caretaker cut in before he could chastise them, "one should be willing to withstand a few breaches in etiquette when dealing with kittens, right?"

"Right," he said. Not his philosophy, but he was no longer their babysitter and their education was no longer any of his business, if it ever had been.

"Come on, Kit, Kat, lets go back to the nursery," Wily said, extending her arms for Wilykat.

Tygra was about to tell her of Kat's knee when a low rumble cut him off, followed by the ground beneath them beginning to shake. The lamps along the wall rattled and one tumbled to the floor. Kit clung to his leg while Kat whimpered and tightened his grip. A crack thundered down the hall and Tygra looked up to see spider web cracks shoot across the ceiling. Wily instinctively pulled Kit to her and sheltered the frightened kitten, but then all grew still.

"What in Thundera!" Wily cried, looking about in wonder.

"What indeed," Tygra muttered to himself. These strange tremors had been increasing as of late, and no one could explain why.

* * *

Cheetara gazed down at the ground far below and slapped the console in irritation.

"I could run there faster than this piece of junk."

The old aerial transport groaned and rattled as though agreeing. Supposedly the machine had a long history and Panthro himself had maintained its upkeep. He'd taken it personally when Cheetara and Tygra had tried to talk him into letting them use one of the newer transports, so now they were stuck with it.

The snowcapped mountains before them glistened in the sunlight, rising up from an endless, lonely field of white. There were no cities out here, no farms or towns anywhere in sight. The only Thunderians that lived out in this wasteland were the reclusive Ounceo, hidden away in the looming mountain range. There was rarely a reason for Thundercats to come this far north in the mountains, but if the increasing earthquakes had anything good about them, it was the accidental reveal of a large vein of the miraculous mineral found years ago. Lord Lion-O wanted to mine the mineral, but the mountains had been the territory of the Ounceo since the Second Cataclysm and he wished to have their permission and aid before he sent any workers.

After the last Cataclysm, the first Lion-O, newly ascended to the throne of the unified Thunderans, had dreamed of bringing all clans into the circle, so all his countrymen, near or far, would have a voice in the Council if they so wished. He had believed his goal complete when ancient texts had referenced two as-yet discovered clans: an unnamed offshoot of the Leopara clan and the Tigris clan.

When found, Lion-O himself had traveled to these mountains and extended his hand in friendship to the Ounceo. They had gladly accepted and joined the unified Thunderans. However, there were no Thundercats among them (it was widely believed that they were descendants of castoffs of the Leopara clan, though there was no proof of this) and they preferred their mountain home. Lion-O officially declared the territory theirs and they continued their reclusive lives, though it was becoming common that young Ounceo would leave their traditional lifestyles and move to nearby towns for work.

Cheetara had been chosen by Lion-O to travel to the northern mountains and request mining rights from the Ounceo elders. She was young, but Lion-O knew her intelligence as well as her compassion that would allow her to relate to the clan. Tygra had been surprised and very pleased when she chose him to accompany her.

He was flying now, giving her a break from the redundancy of steering when on autopilot. Cheetara leaned against the console, her head resting in her hand and a free finger twirling her spotted hair. Very alluring... She looked at him suddenly and smiled.

Tygra had to right the transport when his hand slipped on the control.

* * *

Contrary to popular urban belief, the Ounceo were not barbaric and cut off from the rest of the world. Granted, their communication systems were of old Snarf design, but they worked and anything the Ounceo needed could be sent to them. Cheetara landed the groaning transport on a landing pad not too far from the village and when they climbed out found a small crowd of snow leopards waiting for them.

Cheetara bowed and Tygra followed.

"Greetings, I am Cheetara, first in line to the Cheetara Clan and this is Tygra, heir to his clan."

The Ounceo bowed in return and one, older than the others with him, stepped forward. "We welcome you with open arms, we do not get visitors often and are glad you are here. But come, there is a warm fire and food waiting for you."

Both nobles bowed again and let the elder Ounceo guide them to the village. There was a biting wind blowing snow about them and a fire sounded glorious.

The Ounceo were unique in appearance. They lacked some of the traits found among clans that produced Thundercats; their ears were rounded and while there were spots on their long fur they had no facemasks. But strangely they retained one trait of the ancients even Thundercats no longer had: a tail. It was vestigial, short without any means of movement, but the fur was long and soft and the tail was often a mark of fashion. The elder Ounceo had multiple colored beads and shining metals decorating his, and many females Cheetara and Tygra passed had dyed beautiful, swirling designs onto theirs.

Rustic was the best way to describe the Ounceo village, Tygra thought, though he could see signs of modern comforts here and there, but no vehicles. They were cumbersome in the rocky terrain and so the Ounceo continued to prefer to travel on foot. They were reputed as one of the most sure-footed clans on Thundera and, looking down a steep cliff where he could see kittens playing, Tygra had to agree.

At the center of the village stood a large building, circular in shape and without windows, but smoke and a red glow could be seen escaping from an opening in the conical roof. Ounceo pulled aside a heavy drape of animal skin and gestured for Cheetara and Tygra to enter. A large fire pit lay in the center of the room, animal roasts rotating above it and filling the large space with delicious odors. Despite the rooms size, only a few Ounceo sat around the fire. They bade the two nobles sit and began to pull wet, steamy chunks of meat from the roast for them.

The elder that had come to meet the Thundercats sat before them and smiled. "Now that we have some privacy, we may commence with some pleasantries before business. First, let me introduce myself properly. I am Cyrus of the Ounceo, I speak for the council."

Both Cheetara and Tygra stared at him, dumbfounded at the free giving of his name and he laughed outright.

"Young nobles, I know the laws of your kind, but you must understand we are one, here. Ounceo is who we are as a whole, but it has long ceased to be used as our name. We also stopped following your archaic belief that to give your name is to give someone power over you."

Tygra found it odd that these backwater cats could refer to the roots of their tradition as 'archaic' but said nothing.

Cyrus continued. "Even so, consider it a matter of trust. If I was unwilling to give you even my name, how could you extend trust to me in kind?"

"I agree," Cheetara said and Tygra could not help but look at her in surprise. Give this man their names? They had just met, and was he not representing his clan to them? It was unseemly! And yet, wasnt that why Lord Lion-O had chosen Cheetara? Already she was understanding these strange cats and accepting where Tygra would have balked.

"I am Atalanta Cheetara." She spoke so easily, her name flowing from her lips as though she had said it a thousand times before. It was the most beautiful thing Tygra had ever heard.

But then she looked at him expectantly and a rock fell into his stomach. Its just a name, he repeated to himself, just a name, and finally spoke.

"I am Theron Tygra." It didnt come out as strongly as he would have liked, but then Cheetara dazzled him with a bright smile and he did not worry about it.

"Tygra," Cyrus mused as though hearing the name for the first time, "Did one of the lesser clans finally overthrow the Tigris?"

Whoa, so much for the Ounceo keeping up to date on things. "When Lion-O I came to my ancestors with the Code, the Tigris changed their name to honor she that accepted it and brought us to the Thundercats. That was centuries ago."

"My apologies, we do not hear much on the movement of individual clans. But the Tigris were a fierce people, I'm sure it wasn't that simple."

"There is more to the story, yes."

Cyrus nodded, "Perhaps you can share that story with me later, Theron. But, beautiful Atalanta, you both did not come all the way to the northern ranges to trade history. Rather, let us exchange recent news so that we may understand each other better, and then tell us what you wish of we the Ounceo."

* * *

She stood on the precipice, the wind whipping her hair around her in primal beauty, shining pure gold in the sun that slowly rose before her. Her arms were stretched outward, taking in the little warmth that sun offered. The cloak the Ounceo had given her was left behind and she stood bare, her fur the only thing between her body and the world. Tygra was transfixed.

Discussions were going well. While the Ounceo had some reservations on the mining, they were willing to work out a contract and aid the workers Lion-O would send. Siberim himself and several others would come to work out the details but for now Cheetara had procured the go-ahead for such things.

She was amazing.

They'd accepted the offer to stay the night and despite all that Tygra had wanted to say Cheetara had been tired and had quickly fallen asleep amongst the furs. He was a young male and despite his better intentions the sight sent him out into the cold for a few hours. But there was nothing sexual about the way she bathed in the sunlight now, just a sheer beauty he was afraid would shatter if he so much as breathed.

"Why are you worried?"

He jumped at her voice. She was looking over her shoulder at him, but far from shatter the beauty she now looked like a long forgotten goddess of his ancestors. He really had to get a hold of himself, she was a cheetah, after all.

"What's that?" he finally ground out from his dry throat.

She turned, her sun worshipping forgotten and all attention focused on him. "We've known each other for a long time, nearly as long as you and Panthro. You know his name, dont you?"

She had to be a mind reader, how did she know this is what had plagued him all night? "Yes, since we were cubs."

"Am I not your friend?" It was a genuine question, he could see the small fear in her eyes that he would reject her, deny all they were to each other.

"More than!" he gasped without meaning to, moving to her and taking her hands.

"Then why can't I call you Theron? Why do you think I brought you with me? Our clans are not here."

Realization dawned and Tygra couldnt help but smile. "Clever cat, you knew about the Ounceo before we got here!"

"You think I wouldn't do my research? Besides, how else was I going to drag your name out of you?"

"Now you have it," he paused, his throat constricting. He was not good at this. "Atalanta, I..." He couldn't finish, his hands, damn them, were shaking.

Cheetara's eyes widened, as though the thought had reached her nonetheless. Her hands twisted slowly in his trembling grip until their fingers entwined. He couldn't say anything and she didn't need to.

Hesitantly, she placed her lips to his. It was chaste, an unsure step for two unsure people, but something in Theron snapped.

Damn the cheetahs and tigers and damn his shyness!

He pulled her close, almost roughly, tasting her, and her clawed hands buried themselves in his mane. The rising sun cast their shortening shadows on the snow covered rocks, two beings no longer discernable.


End file.
